


The Meaning of Flowers

by BlackCats



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCats/pseuds/BlackCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He really does try. It's one thing amongst many that she loves about him.<br/>(Magnolia, Yew, and the beginning of a very important day.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of Flowers

There’s a knock at the door, and Magnolia pauses mid-stroke, the brush’s advance halted halfway down the length of her hair. It’s early yet— _terribly_ early, the shops would only _just_ be opening their doors right about now—and yet, somebody is seeking her company…?

(She’s too excited to sleep, you see, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Yes?” she says at last, curious about her unexpected guest. Outside, a flock of seagulls sail past her window and ascend into the brilliant blue sky.

“M-Magnolia? Sorry to bother you…were you asleep?”

The familiar voice brings an easy smile to her lips, and Magnolia’s quick to resume her morning preparations, wanting to ensure she looked presentable for her beloved. Perhaps it’s a good thing then that she started so soon!

“Oh, you needn’t worry. I wasn’t asleep! Did you need something, Yew?”

“R-Right, that’s…that’s good! I’m glad to hear it.” She listens to his muffled voice as it trips and stumbles past the barrier of the closed door. “Would you…mind coming out to see something? O-Or I guess, really, what I’m asking you to do is open the door, but d-don’t open it all the way! Just, um, maybe halfway?”

What in the world has gotten into him…? The nervousness trembling through every syllable tells her he’s up to something he finds embarrassing, which means it’s likely something very sweet. Yew is many things—kind and strong and warm—but he is not confident in affairs such as this, and she loves him all the more for it, because he never stops trying.

She humors him. Rising to her feet, Magnolia smooths down her blouse as she approaches the door, a pleasant warmth settling into her cheeks. “ _Oui!_ You said only halfway, did you not?”

“Y-Yes, please, if you d-don’t mind...”

“Of course I don’t, silly!”

She obeys his whim to the letter, and she watches what she can see of his face turn an even darker shade of red as he shuffles his feet nervously.

“Okay. I can do this…Ahem.” Clearing his throat, Yew lifts his gaze to meet hers, and promptly bows his head again as his nerves crash over him like a wave. “M-Magnolia…! W-We’ve been together for a-a…a pretty long time now. Well, I mean, it’s only really been a year, but it feels like I-I’ve known you for far longer! S-So I thought I would just, for our anniversary, start with…”

From behind his back, he hands her a flower. She recognizes it as the very same type of Eternian magnolia that she has tucked away securely in her hair, and she can’t help the way her heart skips at the sight. It’s such a simple gesture, but they both know the meaning of flowers on the moon.

“Yew…” She accepts it with a smile. “Ah, thank you…”

“Don’t thank me just yet! I-I’m not done, ahaha…” He turns away from her, but then pivots sharply back. “Don’t open the door any wider! Just…hang tight, all right?”

She nods, perplexed, as he vanishes from sight down the halls of the Geneolgia manor, only to return in a few seconds with yet another flower. This one is simple—a bouquet of yellow daffodils, bright enough to put the sun to shame. He presents them to her, whipping out his journal so he can study something written therein.

“There’s a language for flowers here in Luxendarc! Certain flowers carry certain meanings, and it's really very interesting, since they've even been used to send secret messages when other avenues weren't avail--uh, scratch that, that's not important right now. A-Anyway. I thought you might want to know about it. So, u-uh, I put together a few things that I wanted to tell you, that I could say to you with flowers…Let's see...Daffodils stand for 'chivalry'. I know you can look after yourself, Magnolia, but I want you to know that I’ll gladly serve as your knight! I'll always do my best to protect you from danger, on my honor as your partner!”

He folds his fist over his heart and salutes her with such a look of determination, she’s struck silent. Yew seizes her surprise as the perfect opportunity to retrieve yet more flowers, and this time he returns to her with a bouquet of pansies, which stand for “loving thoughts”. Magnolia’s barely given time to accept them before he’s gone again, and back, and gone again…and back again...and gone again...It's remarkable, really, the details he has for each gesture of flora, if not unexpected, considering his studious nature.

(The thought of him pouring over tomes for her sake makes her smile.)

“A-All right, that’s about it…”

By the time he’s finished, her arms are absolutely filled to the brim with flowers. Lilacs for “first love”, hyacinths for “sincerity”, larkspur for “beautiful spirit”…violet tulips for “faithfulness”. There’s this and that and _so many more_ that she can scarcely even remember them all, and Yew finally pushes the door open entirely so she can see the empty wagon—its vacated base lined with loose petals—that he must have rolled up the stairs, somehow…

The sweet scents are filling her nose, and she’s utterly at a loss for words.

“H-Happy anniversary, Magnolia,” Yew says quietly, and she decides that is just about it, indeed.

Turning, she walks into her room without a word and places all of the flowers carefully upon her bed. Where exactly she will make room for them doesn’t matter, because there’s only one thing on her mind, and she has no intention of doing anything else until she shows the full extent of her gratitude! Facing her (extraordinarily nervous) beloved—dawdling nervously in the hallway—she races straight at him and flings herself into his arms.

“Yew… _Je t'aime!_ Y-You are the sweetest man on all of Luxendarc—Luxendarc, _and_ the Moon!”

She’s caught him off-guard, and he lets out a startled shout, staggering backwards until his back hits the wall. She doesn’t relent, pressing loving kisses to his jaw and cheek and face until he’s absolutely flushed scarlet with embarrassment.

“M-Magnolia! I’m glad you like it, but—“

“’Like it’? Yew, I _adore_ it! I never would have expected you to do something like this so readily!”

“H-hold on, wait, I’m going to f-fall…!”

His feet sliding out from beneath him, Yew slips down the wall and takes her with him, where she is perfectly content to sit on his lap and curl into him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He’s happy, he’s pleased, she _knows_ he is because there’s that marvelous gleam he gets in his eyes when he’s satisfied with the outcome of something, and she dares to think that he underestimated just how ecstatic a gesture like this makes her.

Once she’s calmed down a bit, Magnolia places her palm flat across his heart, and smiles.

“Really…Thank you, Yew. I’m so happy that the two of us are together. _Tu es ma amour._ I…never thought that I would ever…”

She trails off as the words leave her—like the seagulls, like before—and Yew gently places his palm on the side of her face, in turn.

“M-Me neither, but…I’m glad we are.”

There’s a moment then, that’s nothing more than this. The both of them together, in the silence of a morning that seems like any other to anybody else, but holds such meaning to them.

Then:

“U-Uh, Magnolia…You’re still…”

“It’s a comfortable spot, isn’t it?” she replies with an impish wink, making no attempt to change her position upon his lap.

He buries his face in both his hands, red up to his ears, and she giggles, collecting a few loose petals and spreading them out into spots of color through his hair.

“Wait until you see _my_ surprise,” she says, and laughs when he gulps.

(It’s nothing as bad as all _that_.)

**Author's Note:**

> *barges in here with a fic about my OTP*  
> When does this take place? Don't question it. Just enjoy the fluff.


End file.
